Summer was led from the courtroom into the street after the trial, and was immediately surrounded by guards. It would normally only be necessary to have two or three guards to escort a prisoner to a transport vehicle, but the controversial nature of her trial had led to an incredible public backlash. The streets were swarming with civilians there to voice their disgust that one of the people who had been charged with their defence had turned out to be nothing more than a multiple murderer.

"Rot in hell!" One woman screamed as she reached through the barricade in an attempt to grab her.

"Kick her out of the dome!" One man yelled, throwing an egg, striking her in the side of the head, feeling the cold, wet centre running down her face and neck. She had to turn her face as a couple of soldiers wrestled him to the ground, and began pounding on him ferociously.

She always had problems with that side of law enforcement. It was so essential that the population was kept running smoothly that only the more serious crimes were punished by imprisonment. Since most people lived in overcrowded accommodation and worked in tedious jobs they hated out of necessity, frustration and boredom led to petty crimes like breach of the peace and vandalism were commonplace. They were often not even reported, with the military would usually hand out a stiff beating and send them on their way. She hated to think that he was being beaten because of her, but all things considered, he was the lucky one. She knew what lay in store for her.

She was bundled into the back of the transport vehicle, where one of the guards chained her handcuffs to the seat. He locked leg irons around her ankles, securing her to the seat on the transport vehicle.

"I hope you're comfortable." He said a little coldly, his disgust obvious in his tone. "We'll get you to your new home shortly."

He looked around to make sure no one else was in the back with him and grabbed her hair roughly, threatening to rip it from her head. He pulled out a picture of a young girl and shoved it into her face.

"Do you want to know who this is?" He asked her. "This is Jessica, my little girl. She's 8 years old!"

He yanked her hair roughly, forcing her to look up at the picture as she tried to look away.

"You were her favourite; she wanted to be just like you. She dyed her hair to look like you. Do you know what she'd been doing for the last few days? She's been crying her eyes out every night because of you!" He shoved her head aside and punched her hard in the stomach. "Do you know what it's like trying to tell an 8 year old girl her idol's a murderer? I wish we still had the death penalty. Nothing would have given me greater pleasure than to take you out myself!"

He punched her in the stomach again, before leaving the vehicle and locking the doors behind her. In many ways she wasn't surprised by his behaviour, and could understand it. To many she had betrayed the trust they'd placed in her. She was sure that he was going to be far from the worst she'd face. There was so much bad feeling among the people of the city, she was sure most of them would have turned their backs on her. Not to mention what would happen to her when she finally ended up at the prison. She and the others had been instrumental in putting a lot of the inmates inside, so there was no way she'd end up being imprisoned in a wing where no one had a grudge to settle.

The vehicle pulled into the complex, and massive steel doors slammed shut behind it with a horrendous finality. She looked around, seeing into the yard where the prisoners were currently in the exercise yard. They all had a story, some tale as to how they ended up here, but in this place they all merged into a single, faceless mass. They were all dressed identically in blue jeans with grey t-shirts, bearing their prison identification number. She found her eyes drawn to another common factor among the prisoners. They all wore metal collars around their necks. Another factor of law enforcement on Corinth was those tracking collars.

Since resources couldn't be spared, it was deemed to be nonsensical to waste food rations on prisoners who contributed nothing to society. It was then that the corrections board came up with a solution to the problem. Prisoners were released for a few hours each day to work on menial tasks to free up the rest of the population for more essential jobs. Of course in order to make sure the prisoners could be retrieved, they had to be tracked electronically. That was where the collars came in. Every prisoner, once convicted, would be fitted with a collar that was fitted with a GPS tracking system that allowed the prison authorities to find them anywhere in the colony. Escape was impossible.

Several prisoners pointed to the transport vehicle and rushed over to the fences, pointing and staring as they saw her face through the window, and she knew she had been identified. As the vehicle was finally cleared to make its way through the security checkpoint, she was under no further doubt. She had never been religious, but she knew exactly where she was. She was in Hell.

Ziggy and Dillon arrived back at The Garage, finding Scott and Flynn sitting on the stairs. They both looked completely dejected after hearing the verdict read against Summer. Scott got off the stairs and crossed over to Dillon, the anger obvious in his face.

"Where the hell were you two?" He snapped in his anger. "Summer needed you, and you were nowhere in sight! What was so important that you couldn't be there for her when she needed you?"

"If you must know, we were trying to find evidence to prove she didn't do it!" Dillon told him calmly. "We figured that would help her more than just sitting in a courtroom feeling sorry for her while she was sent down for something she didn't do."

Scott punched him hard in the jaw, sending him to the floor. Flynn grabbed him and shoved him aside while Ziggy grabbed Dillon.

"I've warned both of you before, we all care about Summer!" Flynn yelled, staying between them. He rounded on Scott. "Go and cool off!"

"But Dillon..."

"GO!" Flynn snapped, pointing away. Scott turned quickly and left them, slamming the door to his room as he went. Flynn turned back to Dillon and let out a sigh. "Summer was found guilty. She's been sent down for good."

"All the more reason we need to figure this out." Dillon told him.

"Look, something came up. Something you should know about." Flynn stated. "Summer never told us this, but it seems like this isn't the first time someone's tried to take advantage..."

"You already told us that." Dillon interrupted him sharply.

"I didn't know the full details, only that one of her instructors harassed her while she was training." Flynn explained. He pulled Dillon a little closer. "It turns out he went a lot further than that."

He sat on the stairs and looked up at him.

"Almost three years ago he attacked her. He tried to force himself on her." Flynn informed him. "If it wasn't for Colonel Truman, he would have succeeded."

Dillon took a seat by Flynn's work bench as he heard this new detail. He had called her a control freak; he had made fun of her for not wanting to trust someone else with her fate. Now that attitude made a whole lot more sense. Someone had almost taken that from her in the worst way. He could understand her having trust issues after something like that. He understood that she would never want to lose control to someone like that again.

"That looks pretty bad." Dillon commented. "I guess the jury thought that she freaked out when they tried to attack her..."

"That's pretty much what they thought." He replied.

"There's only one problem with that scenario." Ziggy chipped in. "At least one more person was involved, which means somewhere out there someone knows what really happened."

"How do you know this?" Flynn asked him. "The CSI unit checked all the evidence..."

"They missed out one detail." Ziggy interrupted him. "Paul White's apartment was sound proof."

"But the team only moved in after an anonymous phone call claiming to have heard a commotion from the apartment." He gasped as he realised what Ziggy was getting at. "The only way anyone would hear what happened was if they were in the apartment."

"Other than that, the only way anyone would know to call the authorities is if they already knew what happened." Dillon concluded. "We need to find out who made that call."

"You do realise that we're not supposed to get involved in this case right?" Flynn asked them.

"It's a bit too late for that." Ziggy commented.

"I'm not stopping until Summer's out of that prison." Dillon told him. "I owe it to her."

"I just wanted to make sure we all know what we're getting into." Flynn replied, making his way over to the work bench and accessing his computer. "Ziggy, you're good with computers right?"

"I'm way ahead of you." Ziggy stated as he began tapping away on the system. "I'll have a phone trace coming right up."

Summer felt like a piece of meat as she was run through the procedure. She had never really thought about what prisoners were subjected to as they were checked in. She had been subjected to the humiliation of a strip search and a health examination. The only thing she was grateful for was the opportunity to take a shower following the egg attack outside the courtroom. She was led from the shower room in her underwear to the Custody Sergeant's desk. She was a tall, broad woman, with a stern expression. She eyed Summer up and down critically, like she was something scraped from the bottom of her shoe. Summer looked around, unable to look anyone in the eye as she was taken past all the guards, looking at her and was pointedly aware of her near nakedness. She was sure she was bright red in her embarrassment.

"Summer Landsdown." The Custody Sergeant read out from the check in log. "Well, I guess this is our new celebrity."

There was a sarcastic laugh from the guards around the room. She leaned across the table towards Summer, and hooked her nightstick under her chin, lifting her face enough to look into her eyes.

"I hope you don't think that'll earn you any special treatment Ranger." She sneered in her disgust. She placed a bag on the table. "You've been issued three t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, one pair of plimsolls. Sign here please."

Summer signed the document confirming that she had received her clothing. The Custody Sergeant pointed to a corner.

"You can change over there." She instructed her. Summer was a little grateful for the opportunity to get dressed at last. She didn't think she'd ever gotten dressed so quickly, but in this instance, it was one of the few things she could do to regain any kind of dignity. As soon as she was dressed, the Custody Sergeant gestured for her to return to the desk. She produced a collar from beneath her desk.

"Lift up your hair." She demanded. Summer did as she was told. As the collar was fastened around her neck and activated, she felt her heart sinking. Now there was no denying it. This was no nightmare, it was real. She really had become the property of the state. She wasn't a person anymore, only an identification number.

"Take her to her cell." She said sternly to one of the other guards. "Enjoy your stay."

One of the guards grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her down the hall. She held the bag with her few meagre belongings to her chest as he led her past the other inmates, while he explained the routine that would dictate the rest of her life.

"Wake up call's at 5AM, breakfast is in the mess hall at 5:30. Work assignments are handed out by your wing officer at 6AM. You will be taken to your work assignment, and back from your work assignment by prison transport ONLY." He explained. "Dinner will be served in the mess hall at 6PM, and you will be back in your cell for lights out at 8PM. At all other times, you will be restricted to the recreation area, exercise hall, library or your cell. If you are found anywhere out with these areas without express permission, you will face disciplinary action, do you understand?"

"I understand." She replied as he took her to her cell.

"Mouse, you're getting a roommate at last." He announced to a girl in the cell. The book that concealed her face dropped a little nervously as he said this. She was a tiny woman, around the five foot mark, and maybe 90 pounds dripping wet from the shower. She had shoulder length brown hair, and thick glasses. She shook nervously whenever anyone looked at her, and she all but jumped six feet in the air when the guard spoke to her. Summer could guess why she was called Mouse. Between her tiny stature and her nervous disposition, no one could have looked less like they belonged in this place. She was like a rodent that had wandered into a lion's den. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted."

Summer sat on the bed and placed her bag there, holding her head in her hands. Mouse approached her.

"So what do they call you?" She asked in a voice so weak that it barely carried over to her. Summer just looked up at her.

"Summer." She responded. The tiny woman's eyes opened wide.

"You're Summer?" She asked her. "That means..."

"Yes, I was the Yellow Ranger." She sighed, lying back on the bed. "How about you, what were you before you came here?"

"I was a librarian." She replied softly. "You're in for the big one aren't you?"

"I am." Summer answered as a tear leaked down the side of her face as she lay on the bed. "I'm never getting out of here."

Meanwhile as the guard made his way back down the hall, he stopped by another inmate's cell. He waved her over. She made her way over to the bars slowly.

"Morris, would you like to earn yourself a couple of treats?" He asked her, sliding a pack of tobacco between the bars.

"I'm listening." She replied quietly, taking the contraband.

"The Warden's taking a real interest in this new prisoner." He told her. "Why don't you and some of your friends make her feel welcome?"

"No problem." She told him with a sick little smile. "We always like a little fresh meat to play with."

Back at The Garage, Ziggy had managed to hack into the Military's phone system.

"Right, we know that all 911 calls to the law enforcement division is recorded and logged." Ziggy explained to them. "I just found the file, and...Here we go!"

The message was largely garbled, and barely comprehensible. It was obvious that whoever made the call had tried hard to disguise his voice. They could make out the address of the apartment and something about a disturbance, and that was about it.

"Well that was helpful." Dillon said sarcastically. "Good luck trying to identify that voice."

"Well it gives us one more step." Ziggy told him. "I traced the signal to the phone."

"What are we waiting for?" Flynn asked them. "Come on, let's get that phone!"

"It's at a landfill not far from here." Ziggy told them as he transferred the data to his palm pilot. "Whoever made the call probably threw away the phone."

"So we can try to identify who made the call." Dillon surmised.

"It wouldn't hurt to look at that phone." Flynn said with a shrug. "Come on."

Mouse took Summer out of her cell into the exercise yard to show her where everything was before lights out.

"I'd warn you to stay sharp in here." Mouse told her. "A lot of people in here don't have a whole lot to lose, and most of them aren't very friendly."

"I kind of noticed that." Summer told her, stroking her bruised abdomen gently. "Not all of them are on this side of the bars either."

"The guards have their issues." Mouse told her. "It's best to just do as you're told and not give them any excuses."

Morris and her cronies entered the exercise yard as Summer and Mouse continued to talk. She gave a little look to the guard who had given her the tobacco, which was his signal to clear the yard of other guards. Summer looked up to the towers, noticing the guards leaving.

"Mouse, you know you said I should stay sharp?" Summer asked her. "Am I right in thinking it's a bad sign when the guards leave while prisoners are still in the yard?"

"We've got to get out of here!" Mouse told her in a panic. As she turned around, she saw Morris and half a dozen other prisoners blocking their way.

"Get out of here Mouse!" Morris warned her. "You don't want to get hurt!"

"Go! Summer instructed her as she prepared a guard. Morris and her friends surrounded her, preparing to strike.

"We just wanted to welcome you properly Ranger girl!" Morris taunted her, pulling a polythene bag out of her pocket. "This is going to hurt!"

"You have no idea." Summer replied as the first of them lunged for her. She dodged aside, kicking her legs up into the air with ease, sending her to the ground. The next grabbed her, only to find herself thrown to the ground. Mouse hid a short distance away as they continued to attack her. Because of her training, she held out well, but without her Ranger suit to enhance her abilities, the numbers quickly began to tell on her. She took a few hard shots, before a seemingly innocent punch to the stomach caused her to collapse. Mouse saw blood on her hands as she held her stomach. Looking more closely, she realised that one of the prisoners was armed with a shiv made from a shard of glass. They started to kick her viciously on the ground.

"Get her up!" Morris ordered, wiping her nose with her wrist. "You broke my nose!"

"It doesn't make you any prettier." Summer responded sarcastically as three of Morris' cronies held her tightly, preventing her from fighting back. She punched Summer in the face hard, before retrieving the polythene bag.

"I was just meant to hurt you." Morris told her. "I guess your stay here's going to be a lot shorter than you thought."

With that, she slipped the bag over Summer's head and held it tightly. She struggled as hard as she could, but their grip was too strong. She could feel everything beginning to grow dimmer as she became short of breath. All things considered, it wasn't a bad way to go; at least her pain would end soon. It just seemed bizarre to think that despite all those machines she had faced, she was going to be killed by a couple of punks in prison. She heard an impassioned yell and felt the prisoner holding her left arm falling away. She gasped for air as the bag was torn from her head allowing her to breathe. She looked up to see her unlikely saviour, Mouse, being beaten savagely. The guards came back into the yard, breaking up the fight at long last.

"You were only meant to rough her up a bit." One of the guards whispered to Morris.

"She looks pretty rough to me." Morris said sarcastically at two of the guards dragged Summer back to her feet.

"Sergeant, lock down all the prisoners!" He barked aggressively. Summer watched as they were guided from the yard. She felt her hands being handcuffed behind her back. "Not our celebrity though, the Warden will want to see her."

With that, she was dragged from the yard, through the corridors to a secure elevator. One of the guards activated a key card system to take the elevator to the top floor. It was only accessible by key card for a good reason. The guard room was up here, along with the armoury and the warden's office. She was shown into his office, where she was forced down into a chair by his desk. His office was a gauche exercise in excess. It was panelled in dark oak, with prints of classical paintings hanging on the walls. The desk was impractically large, and ornately carved. A high backed leather chair faced away from her towards a faux marble fireplace.

"Leave us." The Warden announced, waving the guards off over his shoulder. Summer's heart froze within her chest. It had been almost three years, but she still recognised the voice. She could remember every moment of it as if it was happening all over again. She could feel his strong hands clamped around her wrists, holding her down. Groping her like an animal. As he turned around, her face went completely white as the full horror of her situation dawned on her.

"Ronan?" She said weakly, fighting for breath as her heart beat faster.

"Hello Summer." He greeted her insincerely. "I bet you never thought you'd see me again."